Don't Leave Me, Daddy
by Miss Ace Thank You
Summary: A cute oneshot about Hayley and her father, Huey Freeman. What is she like? What kind of father is Huey? What does she think of him? There's only one way to find out.


**Disclaimer: I don't own the Boondocks.**

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><p><em>"Everyone can be a father, but it takes a lot to be a daddy." – Anonymous<em>

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><p>My name is Hayley Angela Freeman, and I am nine years old. I have one sister, Jamie, a mother and a father, that live in the same house, and an uncle named Riley. Honestly, I get along with my mother more than I get along with my father, but she claims that my notions will soon change.<p>

Whatever, I don't believe that I could ever not get along with my mother. She's so sweet and loveable-when she's not mad at me.

People see me, and immediately tell me that I look just like my mother. They never tell me that I look like my father. I assume that it's because of my complexion and my strangely colored hair that they say this about me, but I kind of wish that some people would say that I look like my father. I mean, even though we fight all the time, I want to know that I look like him. Besides, Jamie gets that all the time, and unlike me and Daddy (that's what I'm used to calling him), they actually get along. But that's not why they say it, they say it because she has his afro, even though her skin is more in the middle than anything else.

Jamie wants straight hair like mine, and I want her puffy hair. It's pretty to me, the way it just curls up. She normally wears it in these gigantic puffed up ponytails because that's the way Mommy wore it when she was younger, and to be honest, I feel a little jealous that she has her hair that way. Somehow, it signifies a separation between us that I don't want.

People say that I act more like my father than Jamie does though, who acts like the more civilized version of Uncle Riley if you ask me. I don't care for the people who stoop down to my level like some sort of idiot and coo, "You are just so precious. Who are your parents?"

And I always respond, "That's classified information."

Sometimes, I try to warn people of the evils that the world tries to pass off as good, but they don't ever listen to me. I was trying to even use my angelic looks to attract people, but that was annoying me a little too much. The only good thing that was coming out of it was the fact that I found some innocent kid named Eric to harass, not that he liked it. He was the one crying by the time I told him that his parents were going to die. I tried to be nice and add eventually to it, but he started freaking out and got an asthma attack.

His mom came out and gave me a dirty look before handing Eric his inhaler and telling him that some girls just have a pretty face. That made me mad. I was more than a pretty face, and I was tired of everybody just seeing that. I want people to see me like they see my father. I want to be a hero like he is, but nobody will even bother to see that. No, all I am to them is a pretty face, which sucks.

"I am more," I narrowed my own wine colored eyes at the woman, "than a pretty face. And you are going to die one day, maybe not today, but it's inevitable!"

"You don't go around telling him stuff like that!"

I frowned before gesturing towards Eric, "You believe in Santa?"

"He's the nicest man alive!"

"But you can lie about big men in red suits and get away with it?" I looked at the woman before scoffing, "That's pathetic! At least somebody is bothering to tell him the truth. I mean does he even know the evils of the political system, or the fact that slavery still exists? Does he even know that it's super hot outside because some of our own leaders failed to listen to reason?"

"You know what?" The woman howled as she threw her own braids back, "I knew a kid like you in school! And his name was Huey Freeman."

"And what was wrong with Huey Freeman, huh?" I stamped my feet, quite aware of the crowd I was drawing on the playground as I lifted from the bench, "I happen to know the guy, and he is pretty nice to me!"

"He's a terrorist!"

"No, Barney is a terrorist, the Teletubbies brainless chatter on PBS, they are terrorists!" I looked at her up and down before rolling my eyes, "You probably don't even care about the fact that processed foods will make you overweight so that weight loss marketers can gain more profit."

"What?" The woman held Eric closer to her, like I was going to kill him or something, "Are you trying to call me fat?"

I rolled my eyes at her before shaking my head no, "Nah, you don't look like you eat much, anyway."

"Why are you so mean?" The woman shook her head as she looked at me while my legs dangled a little. I kept a sharp eye out on the playground for Mommy and Daddy, who would not be happy at all about this.

"You said I was just a pretty face," I could feel myself pouting so I put my poker face back on, frowning, "I'm not. I want to be a leader."

"Those are some big dreams for such a little girl," The woman smiled as she softened her tone, "What's your name?"

"Haley," I looked at her before saying the rest, "Hayley Angela Freeman."

"And I take that Huey Freeman-"

"He's my father," I admitted.

"Oh," The woman looked at me before squinting your eyes, "So he did marry Jazmine after all. Huh, you look just like her, but you act like him. That's funny."

"What's your name?" I looked at her funny before looking away, too weirded out about arguing with a grown woman to really care.

"Arielle," She mocked me a little, "Arielle Nordstrom Caesar."

"Oh," I nodded, "Kay."

"Hayley," My father was right beside me all of a sudden before I could even process it, "What are you doing talking to strangers?"

"Um," I winced at his tone before gesturing towards Eric, who had finally lifted from the dirt, "Making friends?"

"And what happened to your friend," He looked at me with that gaze that I never understand, ever, "did he fall or did you just make him cry?"

"I was being the crybaby," The boy came to my defense as I sat back, impressed, "She told me that my mommy would die one day, and I started crying. She was right. I think she always is."

"Smart answer," My father scowled at Eric as I tugged at his pants leg. I don't think it mattered, "So when did you meet my daughter?"

"It was just five minutes ago," I hissed, "Didn't you say I needed to have friends?"

"With girls!" He put a palm over his forehead, "This is how it starts. You make them cry and the next thing you know you're on the hill with them…"

That reminded me, "Hey, Eric! Want to go to the hill?"

"The what?" He looked at me with a furrowed brow, "What's that?"

"I'll show you later," I told him.

"Huey?" the woman with the braids looked at my father, "What's up?"

"Arielle?" My father coughed before looking down at Eric, "So you and Caesar, huh?"

She nodded, "Yup."

I, for one, couldn't have been more confused.

"How have you been?" He looked at the woman, who had grabbed Eric's hand.

"I'd be better without you interrogating my son," She laughed as she gestured towards me, "she's just like you. Is she your only one?"

"I have two," My father looked at the playground where Jamie was with my mother, playing on a swing, "This one's the oldest."

She looked between us and nodded, "You two must get along really well."

"No," I cut in, "not really."

"Oh," The woman looked really shocked, "Well, um, wow."

My father sighed before looking at me and groaning, "Hayley, not right now."

"Yeah," I shook my own head before lifting from the small park bench and frowning back at him, "It's not a good time. I'll leave."

"You're nine!" My father shouted after me, but I didn't care. Who did he think he was? Well, I was a female revolutionary. It was only to be expected that the world would doubt me, even my father. However, I had no doubt in my mind that I could make the world notice me. Well, when I could drive, they would notice me, so I guess Woodcrest was good enough for me.

I hadn't realized that I was running until I passed the hill. Apparently, that was where my mother met my father. She told me that he was very different from other kids, kind of like me. I frowned at her when she said that, but on the inside, I was a little happy that we had something in common. I didn't like fighting with my father all the time, but he was just so him!

"How did I know you would be here?" My father looked at me before sitting down next to me on a patch of grass.

I huffed and turned away from him.

"Hey," He looked at a cloud pass overhead before smirking down at me, "you're the one who ran off. I should be yelling at you."

"But you're not," I pointed out, "And that's not my fault."

We sat there for a moment, me and him. I looked at him. He was big, strong. He had his goatee, and his afro. He had big arms, and his eyes looked even prettier in the sun. I wondered how I looked to him.

"Hayley," He began as he looked at me, "What do you think of me? As a father?"

I looked up, appalled by the break in silence and the question itself. I thought for a moment before shaking my head, hopping back when the long smooth hair hit my back and tickled it a little. God, I wanted to cut it so bad.

"I think that you can be kind of pushy sometimes," I told him honestly after thinking about it, "and controlling. And you're kind of jealous too. "

"Jealous," My father threw his head back and laughed, which made my own eyes widen. Daddy never laughed when I was around him, "Why do you say that?"

"You tried to kill Eric back there," I stood up and put my hands on my hips, "I was trying to make friends!"

"Hayley!" My father looked at me, "Boys are not appropriate friends to have!"

"Why?" I shot back at him while I tugged at my jean shorts, "You were friends with Mommy when you guys were little."

"Hayley,"

"You're just jealous, and I don't know why!" I swallowed the lump in my throat back down as I looked at my father, "We all know that you like Jamie better than you like me, anyway!"

"Hayley"

"And on top of that," I paced in a small circle by the tree, "We always argue. I don't know why. I think you're amazing. You're a leader. You're somebody that kids think is the coolest man on the planet. People look at you and see greatness, wisdom! All people see when they look at me is some pretty face!"

"Hayley!"

"And when I try to tell people the truth," I hit the tree so hard a few squirrels came out of it, "They say just that! Does anybody around here care about what I have to say or what I have to offer? I want to be like you, but I don't even know how to be when we barely get along. I don't like arguing with you, Daddy."

I was lifted from the ground before I realized my father had pulled me into his chest and rocking me like he did when I was really little and scared of thunder. He looked down at me before looking away, smiling, "You were trying to be like me, huh?"

"I suck at it," I sighed into his chest, "I can't ever compare to you."

He laughed at me before setting me back down on the ground, "I never expected you too."

"But I'm a female revolutionist!" I held up a fist in the air, "I want to change the world!"

"And you will," My father looked down at me before looking into the sunset, "I love you and your sister equally, you know."

"Yeah," I snorted, "Right."

"It's true," He looked at me, "You're so independent sometimes that it makes me think that you don't need me. And maybe you don't. You're already so mature, even now."

"That's not true," I shook my head, "It would be weird without you here."

He smiled again before nodding, "Really?"

"Yeah, even if you are jealous of Eric," I paused before asking him what I wanted to ask him, "Why do you do that, Daddy?"

"Do what?" He turned around to face me even though he looked too big to sit there with me Indian style.

"Why do you get mad at every boy who tries to be my friend?"

He sighed before looking at me and gave me that serious look, "Because you are my daughter, I get worried a lot more than I probably should. And because I used to be their age, I know what they see when they look at you."

"I'm nine!" I looked at my dad agape, "They don't like me that way!"

"Maybe not," My father looked into my eyes, "But with a face like that-"

I scowled.

"And a brain like that," He put a finger on my forehead, "It's inevitable, and I know that."

I nodded a little.

"But I don't like it," He looked into my eyes, "I watched you grow up. I taught you how to walk, how to say your first words. I changed all your stinky diapers, and I got up at three in the morning to feed you so your mother could get some rest."

"Sounds fun," I snorted.

He ignored me, "And on occasion, you would smile at me or laugh at something I did, and I would feel like the luckiest man in the world. I am the first man that ever loved you, and for any boy to take you away, it makes me a little more wary."

"What boy is taking me away?" I rolled my eyes as I waved a hand, "I'm not going anywhere with some boy. Revolutionaries don't have time for love."

My father smiled knowingly, "When I was your age, I said the same thing."

"Well," I spat back defiantly, "it's a good thing I can't do anything you can do."

"You can," He looked at me, "If you want to be a revolutionary, you have to have the heart, and you already have more than enough of it."

"You have to say that," I grumbled stubbornly, "You're my dad."

"And?" He raised an eyebrow, "You can. One day, you'll be a powerful woman, at the top of the world, and a thousand people will want to see you fall just to take your spot.

"And what if I fall?"

He looked at me, "Then, I'll catch you."

I smiled, "okay."

He nodded again before hugging me, "I love you, Hayley."

"I love you too, Daddy."

"And if that Eric kid-"

"Daddy!"

"I'm just saying," He said in a warning tone, "that he better know whose kid he's dealing with."

I sighed as I rested my head on my shoulder, "Will you ever let this go?"

"As long as you're my daughter," He looked down at me, "no."

I frowned, "Aw man!"

He ran a finger through my hair, "Oh, yeah!"

"Where's Jamie?" I asked him.

"With Mommy."

"Oh," I looked down before looking up again and shrugging, "I want hair like yours."

He looked down, mouth wide open, "Really?"

"I don't know," I looked down again, "My hair just makes people distracted, and it's too straight. I want it to be like yours and Jamie's. I feel like the weird one! Even Mommy's hair curls up!"

He nodded before lifting my chin, "You are fine the way you are. Trust me on that. Having different hair won't help the situation."

I looked into the sunset before saying what was on both of our minds, "Do you really have to leave again tomorrow with them?"

"Yeah," He nodded, "I have to."

My lip quivered before I bit it, "Why?"

"I'm doing it for you and your sister," He looked at me, "It comes with the job."

"What if you don't come back?"

"I will," He smiled at me again, "I always do."

"Yeah," I picked at the grass while my Malcolm X shirt blew in the wind, "you do."

"I'll be back next week," He looked at me again.

"I don't want you to leave me," I cried before wrapping my arms around his neck, no doubt shocking him. One, I hardly ever cried. And two, I hardly ever showed him any affection, "Why can't you just stay with me? The world needs you, but I do too!"

"Hayley," He sighed, "I know that this is hard on you, but you have to be strong for me."

"I don't want to be strong without you here!" I was full out sobbing now. I was tired of pretending like I didn't care when he left every other week to go on his "business trips", a code for the nosy CIA agents. He was always saving the world, and I knew it was selfish. But I wanted my father, "I want you to stay here and teach me stuff. At least when we're arguing, you're here!"

"Hayley," He put his arms around me, "I'm coming back again next week."

"And leaving the week after that!" I shot back at him.

"Hayley," He pulled me away from him before looking me in the eyes, "I would give anything on Earth to stay with you and your sister and your mother, but I have a little more work to do before that can happen. Okay?"

I nodded, pulling it together, "Alright, sorry, Daddy."

"Don't apologize for crying," He picked me up as we lifted from the ground. The sun was setting as he carried me to the sidewalk, "ever."

"Fine with me, " I smiled at him, "I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you too," He smiled again before it went away.

I held in the words that I still didn't want him to hear again but we both knew I was thinking.

_Don't leave me, Daddy._

"I'm glad," I looked at him when we finally reached the playground, "that you're the first guy that ever loved me."

He smiled at me again with a tear in his eye that I had never seen before. It slipped, "Me too."

"Then," I looked at him, puzzled, "Why are you crying?"

"Because," He squeezed me tight, "I don't deserve a girl like you in my life.

I smiled at him, "You're sillier than Sarah Palin on TV!"

"You know what?"

"What, Daddy?" I smiled at him.

"I think that I just got a week off!"

"Really?" I looked at him with wide eyes and hugged him, "Yay!"

He shook his head at me before watching me hop around after he set me back down on the ground. I guess I had a new mission too. I had to make my father cry every once in a while, just so I can keep him around. Maybe we don't always see eye to eye, but I love him. And he loves me.

He's the best guy in the whole, wide world. And I know that I'm the safest when I'm with him. No other person in the world can treat me like my father does, not one. And that's why I finally recognize the look in his eyes. It's pride, it's love, and it's happiness.

And I know without a shadow of a doubt that he loved me before anybody else did, except maybe Mommy.

And I know that I know that he always will.

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><p>So tell me if you like it.<p>

Haha, I love little old Hayley.

Review, lovely people!

Is it good enough?

Does it suck?

Oh, wait, I should let you tell me that, huh?


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